


Splendid Little Needle

by Lonov



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Tattoo parlor AU, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 07:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/859305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lonov/pseuds/Lonov
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stomach churning anxiously,  Renly said, “I'd like a tattoo.”</p><p>“Oh, brilliant, we do those here,” the man said, smirk growing into a smile. “Is that all? Any tattoo, anywhere on your body?” As he said it his eyes looked Renly up and down, travelling from his face to his shoes with what Renly hoped was a look of satisfaction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Splendid Little Needle

It wasn’t that Renly was _nervous_. Nerves would get in the way of his charisma, his good humor, those traits he valued most within himself. No, he wasn't nervous; he was just a bit uneasy. After all, he’d never gotten a tattoo before, and the concept of needles didn’t particularly please him any more than the sight of blood or broken bones. But he couldn't allow himself to be held back by the needle. He'd been wanting a this for too long, and put too many hours into deliberation, to back down now.

So here he was, outside a tattoo parlor, quietly summoning his courage. In front of him, Tyrell's Tattoos loomed menacingly.

With a deep breath, he walked inside.

The front room was spacious, painted an off-white color that allowed the art on the walls to pop. This art filled the room, framed images of oceans and dragons and portraits of kings, though they were all overshadowed by drawings of flowers. There were more rose motifs than Renly count.

As his eyes wandered around the room they fell upon a shockingly handsome man standing at the front counter. Renly’s nerves doubled.

“Hello,” the man greeted, with a mischievious smirk. “Can I help you?”

“Er,” Renly said, stomach churning anxiously. “I'd like a tattoo.”

“Oh, brilliant, we do those here,” the man replied, and his smirk blossomed into a smile. “Is that all? Any tattoo, anywhere on your body?” As he said it his eyes traveled from Renly's face to his shoes with what Renly hoped was a look of satisfaction. "I'd be happy to assist. Call me Loras."

He extended his hand, and Renly stepped closer to take it. “Renly. And not quite any tattoo, I'm afraid. I have this sketch from a while ago." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a worn sketch, but his fingers hesitated to drop it on the counter.

Loras watched him carefully, eyes falling to Renly's tight grip on the paper. "I'm guessing this is your first tattoo."

Renly laughed at his transparency. "Is it that obvious?" The smirk was back. "A bit." "Well, yes," Renly admitted. "And I'm not exactly a big fan of needles."

"I was figuring that while I was watching you sit in your car and give yourself a pet talk." Loras said playfully. Renly flushed. "No, don't worry about it. It's normal. We get a lot of people in here like that, and they all leave happy with the result. You'll see it's not as bad as you think. There usually isn't any blood, and the pain can be liberating."

Renly gulped. Usually?

"Can I see the sketch?" Loras asked, reaching for the now-crumpled paper in Renly's fist.

Stomach flipping, Renly handed it over. "We have an old saying in my family that we're like stags because we're never afraid to fight for what we think is right. I don't really like to fight much, but my elder brother just died and... he would have liked this, I think."

Loras studied him from underneath long eyelashes. "I'm sorry about your brother."

Renly shrugged. He didn't like to talk about it. It wasn't as if he'd ever been close to Robert, or that Robert had approved of him after learning of his sexual preferences. Renly knew he didn't owe his brother anything; he certainly didn't owe it to him to come into this terrifying place and go under the needle. But a part of him, a rather large part which had been growing for several months now, had always respected his elder brother. He wanted to do one last thing to show Robert—and himself—that there was no residual resentment. And that, despite his preference to avoid arguments and fights, Renly was ready to confront anyone who wronged him.

He knew a tattoo didn't make you a new person, but he wanted the daily reminder that he was a Baratheon, and that meant he was strong.

"Thanks," Renly said , shrugging it off. "Anyway, as I said I’m not exactly keen on needles, but I’d like to get this tattoo started so I can get it over with.”

Loras nodded understandingly. "Customer knows best." He began walking toward one of the rooms down a hallway to their right, and Renly followed after him. “Don't worry so much, all right? I've done this a thousand times. Tyrell’s Tattoos belonged to my elder brother, so I’ve been here for years. We often get people afraid of needles or pain or blood, all those things—I’m prepared to handle you.”

Renly fought to keep the inappropriate pictures from his mind. “Good.”

“I’ll get you started, then, right in here," he said, as he stopped at then room and gestured to the long cushioned chair in the center. 

The walk over had given Renly the interesting distraction of Loras's incredible body. And absolutely perfect arse.

“Sorry, did you say something?”

Renly blanched. Had he said that out loud? “Just that... I trust your abilities, that's all.”

Grinning broadly, Loras handed him a large portfolio of drawings. “Nice of you to say so already. These are my works. My sister Margaery is working on someone else in another room, but if you aren’t pleased with mine I could show you her work as well, and you can decide from there. It won’t hurt my feelings if you turn me down,” he winked, “ "much.”

Renly wondered about whether the double entendre was intentional as he flipped through the book. The art was incredible—animals that looked as if they were photographed, plants that seemed to sway in nonexistent wind, and countless intricate roses, similar to the ones Renly had noticed in the front room.

“This is amazing,” he said as he flipped through the pages. “You’re an incredible artist.”

Loras preened, obviously prideful. “I’m glad you think so. As soon as you came in I knew I had to work on you... your skin is just...” he trailed off, laughing at his own forwardness. “My apologies. As a tattoo artist. I tend to mentally cover people in tattoos the moment I see them. When I looked at you I saw the most gorgeous art in my mind.”

Renly wasn't quite sure how to respond. "Thank you."

With a smile, Loras said, "Sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out. Now then, let's get this started before I send you running out."

Renly snorted half jokingly, half nervously. "I think it's too late for that by this point."

"It isn't," Loras assured him, looking very serious. "If the pain becomes too much, or you don't feel well, let me know. I can stop. We can finish it another time. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to see you again, anyway."

Renly's eyebrow quirked and he he flushed pleasantly. "Well that's certainly good to know. Shall we begin?"

****

It took an hour for Renly to start officially, uncontrollably freaking out, which in all honestly was longer than he'd anticipated. Though the piece was on his side and was therefore relatively easy to avoid looking at, after a while the pain became too much to handle. It didn't help that he couldn't even look into Loras's beautiful face, for fear of accidentally glancing at the needle.

"Fuck," he hissed. "Is it supposed to hurt this much?"

It took Loras a moment to reply, lost as he was in his needle and Renly's skin. "Unfortunately. I should tell you, though—I don't want you to freak out, all right?"

Renly wasn't sure he could avoid it, but he nodded all the same, not trusting himself to speak.

"There's a bit of blood coming out—nothing I haven't seen before, nothing extreme. It's not a huge deal, but your body may be reacting worse than some because it's your first tattoo."

"Shit. Oh my—Can you make it stop? Get it to stop!" He was fully panicking now. 

Loras exhaled loudly, as if Renly's reaction amused him. "It's just a bit of blood, we've all got it in us. There's no reason to be concerned or afraid. Are you all right?"

Renly clenched his teeth. "My side is bleeding profusely. Do I look like someone who's all right?"

"It isn't profuse, it's a relatively normal amount. If you relax a bit this will hurt less, though. You're going to make yourself sick."

"I can't relax! There's a needle in my skin! What else am I supposed to think about?"

"You said your brother passed away recently, right? So did mine." Loras said it with an hones acceptance; his hands never ceased the needle. "He was in a car accident. The other driver was drunk. And she survived, of course, but my brother didn't."

"Oh, God," Renly said. "I'm so sorry. That's terrible."

"He lived the fullest life of anyone I've ever met. He always said he was ready to go at any time, that he didn't have any regrets, and he was the bravest man I've ever known. He would have sacrificed himself for anyone who needed him to. Later on I'll show you the tattoo I got for him."

"That's—if it's very personal, you don't have to," Renly said, though he was curious. He wanted to question Loras's method of bringing up a horrific tragedy in order to make Renly feel better, but he supposed, as long as the distraction worked and Loras was comfortable sharing, there wasn't much of a reason not to get so deep with a relative stranger.

Loras gently patted Renly' side above where he was tattooing. "I've seen the tattoo you got for your brother. It's only fair."

"Are you normally this forthcoming with the people you tattoo?" Renly asked.

"I've never tattooed someone as fit as you before."

Renly's stomach flipped. "Ever?"

"Nope. Well, maybe once or twice, but they're always straight."

"And how do you know I'm not?"

Loras snorted. "Seriously?"

"Hey!" Renly exclaimed. He couldn't pretend to be offended; a small smile had broken over his face.

"What? There's nothing wrong with it. You made me very happy, actually, when you walked in here wanting my art."

"Hmm. I suppose it's a bit late to change tattooists now, right?" Renly quipped.

"Right. I'll lock the door if I have to in order for you to stay," Loras paused his hands as he flicked his gaze to Renly's exposed chest. "God, your skin is amazing. The perfect canvas."

"It's a bit creepy, you know, when you do that."

Loras laughed. "I'm sorry. I distracted you well enough, though, didn't I?"

"That's—yeah. Wait, it's done?"

Loras stepped into Renly's view, grinning, with a needle still in hand. "It's done," he confirmed. "You survived."

"Wow," Renly said, looking down at the newly-inked pink skin.

"It'll heal up in a few days," Loras said, watching him intently.

"Right..." Renly slowly raised his eyes to meet Loras's, suggestion heavy in his expression. "Do you think I should come back then, just to be sure it healed correctly?"

"It wouldn't be necessary to come back," Loras said matter-of-factly. Renly raised an eyebrown. "Though of course," Loras continued quickly, seeming to realize his intention, "it's never bad to make sure. if you'd like to meet me, say, Wednesday at Highgarden Pub, I'd be happy to check up on it for you."

Renly smiled widely.

"And," Loras continued, looking mischievous, "if all looks well, maybe you could even check out some of mine."

"I rather like that idea," Renly said. "Just to be sure the tattoo healed properly, of course."

With a quirked eyebrow, Loras smirked. "Of course."

***

Five years later, Renly walked into Tyrell's tattoos for what must have been the thousandth time. His nerves were on edge again; once more he'd spent months building up to this, and once more he'd sat in his car for half an hour giving himself a pep talk.

He'd all but forgotten the pain of his first tattoo, his only other, but he was nevertheless nervous to feel it again.

"There you are," Loras said, leaning over to kiss him briefly. "I wasn't sure when you'd get off work, so I've been sitting around for a while."

"You should have called," Renly said, moving back toward the same room he'd been tattooed in years ago, the room he silently considered _their_ room, where they'd had sex too many times to count, despite Margaery's constant annoyed insistence that it wasn't sanitary to do so.

"I was too excited," Loras said, practically bouncing on his toes. "I've been waiting forever to tattoo you again."

"Because I'm the most perfect canvas you've ever seen?" Renly asked, playfully rolling his eyes.

"Yes," Loras said, leaning over the chair to kiss Renly again. "But mostly because your stag," he brushed a finger along Renly's side, over the tattoo he had kissed and licked and stroked so many times before, "needs a rose." He gently touched the smooth skin on Renly's other side, just under his ribs. His eyes examined the flesh as if he could already see the new tattoo there.

"The stag has a rose," Renly said.

"Mm," Loras acknowledged, preparing Renly's skin for the needle.

Renly gazed at the ceiling and tried to quell his churning stomach. "If it bleeds again I'm going to be upset with you."

"You're usually upset with me. Just try to keep the tears back."

"I didn't cry last time!"

"Sure, sure."

"Hey!"

Loras snickered. "Of course you didn't. You've never cried a day in your life. Now sit still so I can start this."

With a grumbled retort, Renly complied.

When the needle hit his skin this time, he didn't even bleed.


End file.
